A Battle of Wills...

So, I am in church today and having a difficult time concentrating. My mind is fluttering back in forth between the sermon. The concrete floor and a memory. I know I should concentrate on the words but the memory is not letting me have my way...

... It is windy. I am not sure if it was a windy day or the fact we were by a major airport. We were walking through a field toward a high fence. Barbed wire lined the top letting us know that this tall fence was not to be climbed. We had no intention of climbing it. What our intentions were would soon be clear. We walked through tall grass and upon emerging on the other side we saw what appeared to be a camp ground. Tents were lined up for probably the length of a football field. The only thing weird was these tents were dirty. Filthy would be a better adjective. People were walking around and they too were filthy. We came upon a tent city that our guide knew well. At 17 it was intimidating but we were here to bring them food. We passed out the sack lunches to all the people then we got to speak with a few of them. A older black man with few teeth was cracking jokes but another man with long white, well that is an assumption it was matted and very dirty, hair was very serious. His bushy beard covered his face but in his eyes, his pale blue eyes, mist was swirling. The mist swirled as he fought is own conscious. He started to tell us about the dangers of drugs and alcohol. This wasn't like those commercials that tell you to just say "no" or something catchy. This guy didn't fry an egg or anything silly. He was telling us how it destroyed his life. He lost his wife and kids. They had given up on him. He had gone in and out of rehab. He just couldn't get his act together. He just couldn't. He said that his daughter knew and loved Jesus and so did he. He just couldn't figure out how the two could work together. He wanted to stop. He wanted to meet his grandchildren. He wanted to praise Jesus without this nagging need for a fix. He also wanted to do a line of coke or drop acid. He was torn. In his eyes I saw a battle a battle I had felt in my heart for years. No, I didn't want drugs but I too struggled with the chains of habitual sin.

... I snap back. I am reminded of Paul and the "thorn in his flesh" and how he too struggled with something. He never said what but I think his ambiguity is on purpose. I could tell you my specific sin in this instance but I don't have too. Why? Because we all have something we have to overcome everyday. I was just reminded of this story because I don't want to find myself in a tent city with next to no hope wrestling with the same sin. Does that mean I get healed and I never wrestle it again? No, I don't think that is what God intends for me. I do know that I have a choice. A tough choice everyday. I can indulge myself or I can not. My choice is daily.